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JS CARIE Sep 2020
What I still and will continue to love about your eyes are...

the multitudes of hues and moods embedded within
Gripping abundant roots of attractive backwoods
and memorable fruits beside a glass of sweating beer that is on its way to finding room temperature
To name a short plethora of goods

Not to mention but rhyming about  Emotions that ensue
from a few
all inclusive spring rays shining into branches of oak and cedar needles
painting shadowy sharps on the  
greening blades
cast out under and around them

Summery flares shot between the solar
sparking luminescence

Shutters of blue steam breathing when winter is  looming and when it has come

I don’t even need to mention fall
since I would wager
Mother Nature stole every grade and color
from your visionary pair of awareness
Like a psychedelic alchemist enhancing each wordless life form into artistry
From her droppers of autumn in associated definition
anyone sees when thinking of the 3rd quarter
From trickling infrequency of leaves falling
spread out on course
with all end-of-the-line runnings of any pillow top creek
sweeping across the horizon tiring out in a dry bed of mossy river rock
These are what I still
will continue to love about your eyes

and the day will come
when someone will ask  
requesting me
not to write about them again
Opens the arsenal
for the most tragically moving poetic scribblings
leaving their ring
in the dust with her silent questioning
“What in the ****?”
The meaninglessness of their dollars spent
JS CARIE Sep 2020
If something
This something came fluid
and fell from within I’m afraid to say
it’d be too sad to say
It might not and probably wouldn’t fit your habitat,
The woman between her ears
the only one
My backwoods nomad
Is all
the only one I’d even want to hear
Oddly this dysphoria rings out for  miles
You might still hear it anyway

So until then...
JS CARIE Sep 2020
out west,
above and locked inside a transparent captivity of clouds
sank a sleeping and almost completely burnt sun
I watched this fire, fall into your townlet
with a hopeful feeling of synchronization
Could have been the direction
my eyes out cast
giving cause to this overdue emotion
to be spoken
my ability to place  
your human wonder
at the center of any setting
without borders
On your legs
crossed over lap
poetry pad
accompanied by the Ticonderoga
you write with
Not forgetting to mention
A perfect pile of tossed up hair
half fallen
the other locked in a clip
And of course a pair of dreamed about eyes
watching simultaneously with mine
into the skies
of where we might both see
the day close out
turning grey light haze for when night time comes around
to give all the crowd under it
a soothe
Where yawning is allowed
Leading us to a bed
to sleep away this now downhill day
for some shut eye
drop out
JS CARIE Sep 2020

midway up the alleyway

among illegal upheaval

urban street backgrounds
swell unfolding into soundscape shapes

for exchanging
cracked mufflers
broken English as ingredients

out in this blacktop district melting ***

and crash

spilling out almost detuned chords of reverberated sustain

into and echo through my window
in an oscillating fling around the ceiling  fan  
and from there it’s on repeat until dusk begins to loom

Static sizzle begins a final crescendo
And quickly takes its medicinal weakening

inevitable low murmuring enduring

in an almost complimentary gradation
a fading to dark (so you know where we’re at)

Frogs and crickets use their voices

In nocturnal harmony

singing the daylight to rest

while synchronizing intone
all those unforgiven and withdrawn souls
can take a new step forward

walking in stride with carefree invisibility

beneath a scattershot of luminaries
that constellate a shadowy veil

draped over town
My town
and Your town
and across
in a floating waft

Dispatched via the calm blue astral spheric hue
from a lunar dome
cosmic citadel




for all  our collective
Grandmother Astral-sphere

If the streets in your town make music from first light until sundown, you can relate reflect enact express and / or  equate
JS CARIE Sep 2020
taken up residence in all my areas and in these places
there is always a place for her

In my basement
when she rubs and soothes my toes to a numbing comfort
at opposite end her stretch lets my hands do the same to hers

Structure beams stand
and are why my calves and thighs continue to grow stronger
are incentive to be wrapped around her legs
and hers in a grip twist
throughout the curve of my hips to hold crossing
X made when I am wrapped

For entering the front porch
She knocks but not heard
for her tapping inquiries are irrelevant
So it turns, the doorknob turns
unlocking opening this abstract transition in my abdomen  
Here is hers to warm her hands
and chest
when chills come over
and Level-Up in connect
with another’s rushes
through bloods chamber controller

In the hearth of my arms
is where she sleeps off stressful days
and absorbs deep breaths
given to her by the nighttime in comfort fire
that keep warm in clutching swarm

The crawl space of my mind is her cozy retreat
Where she writes to and
receives poetry like excessive pounding heartbeats
and sings and reads, is read to and strummed to
in this cave of only good thoughts drape over, outweigh
and extend
root outward
sprout upward
seeds are sewed
for and of future place
take place
This is where she speaks one line
“Millions of days,”
and falling feta paints rapid wetness across raised cheeks
grazing my chin upward, with her fingers
where we pace, follow, and race,
To more moments in place on our backs
in the yard
just to lay and stare ahead
at endless sects of aerospace
As if in bed, in their others head
JS CARIE Aug 2020
In observance of her lady goddess, an organic magnetic dynamic nostalgic comes up to surface,

only in her goddesses passing glance
in my direction
finds her scanning a
neurotic romantic narcotic ******
JS CARIE Aug 2020
Depending on the use and day,
a large percent of ingested content were used as (and in) space crafts sweeps
across galaxies of stereographic tones
spectral outlets
That in turn, would radiate a bartered intoxication
Theres no denying
in how much those journeys assisted with the development of creative styles forward
from in the aforecited text
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